


Traditional

by DeathFrisbee221



Series: 12 Author Gifts for Xmas [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Christmas, M/M, POV Mycroft Holmes, Sibling Incest, Traditions, Virgin Sherlock, holmescest, sort of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-26
Updated: 2013-12-26
Packaged: 2018-01-06 06:41:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1103665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeathFrisbee221/pseuds/DeathFrisbee221
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When they were younger Sherlock used to creep into Mycroft's bed and wake him on Christmas morning so they could open their stockings together. Then Mycroft moved to Oxford to study Politics and Sherlock had to stop that tradition.</p><p>But the good thing about traditions is that they are never really forgotten...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Traditional

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chasingriver](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chasingriver/gifts).



> I've never written Shercroft before. I am rather inspired by your stuff so I hope I did okay. Merry Christmas.

When they were younger Sherlock used to creep into Mycroft's bed and wake him on Christmas morning so they could open their stockings together. Then Mycroft moved to Oxford to study Politics and Sherlock had to stop that tradition.

But the good thing about traditions is that they are never really forgotten.

 

When Sherlock is 18 and Mycroft is 25 they have one final Christmas at the manor. Sherlock is off to Cambridge next year and Mycroft's career is looking very promising with a promotion on the horizon. 

Mycroft is only vaguely surprised at 2am to hear the snick of the lock and the barely audible creak that comes from the loose floorboard three steps in. 

' _Really little brother, must you be so loud? You'd never be a convincing burglar._ '

The shifting of the covers of his double bed however, and the following icy cold limbs encircling him, and snuggling close, are more of a surprise; he thinks Sherlock is simply lonely and cold and he lets it go. His brother clearly doesn't mean it in any other way.

 

On Christmas morning their positions are reversed. Mycroft's body is the big spoon and Sherlock's soaking up the warmth his brother radiates greedily.

When he opens his eyes and sees a mass of black inky curls under his chin he knows things are going to get awkward. It's hard to hide when there is nothing but a thin nightshirt between you and your baby brother.

His morning erection poking against Sherlock's lower back. The younger Holmes purrs ' _in his sleep, he must still be sleeping..._ ' And then he presses back against Mycroft's cock and Mycroft has to bite his lip to stop from making an inappropriate noise, that gurgles up the back of his throat.

_This has to cease!_

Untangling his limbs seems to wake his brother however. Sherlock turned to look at him with hungry wild eyes and mischievous smile. Mycroft pauses, brain whirling in search of an excuse.

"Merry Christmas My." He whispers before leaning into the gap and catching his lips. 

Mycroft is shocked. Frozen under the action and it takes a full minute of Sherlock moving his soft lips against him before he pushing him away.

"What are you doing?" He hisses, torn between refusing outright and just taking what Sherlock is clearly offering.

Sherlock rolls his eyes. "Oh don't be so righteous My, I _know_ you feel the same. I've seen how you look at me. I felt the evidence moments ago. I know what I am doing. I know what I _want_."

Mycroft swallowed, tongue feeling like lead in his mouth. 

"I want you My. I always have." Sherlock presses on.

"Oh god."

Sherlock grins victorious And oh Jesus he really shouldn't look that desirable but he does.

Without thinking any further Mycroft pulls him down for a proper kiss - tongues contesting for dominance and bodies rutting together in a most primal way.

They continue like this for a solid ten or so minutes, the rest of the world passing them by as bedclothes are thrown to the floor and skin is uncovered. There were grunts and moans and gasps filling the room. When Mycroft mutters about lacking what they need Sherlock is one step ahead of him. Pulling away to grab the only stocking in the room he hands it over.

Mycroft gazes at his filled red stocking. Laying on top of the regular trinkets and gifts is a packet of condoms and lube. 

Discarding the rest he lifts out both and the pulls Sherlock in for a kiss interspersed with words:

"So Sherlock. Tell me. Have you. Been. Naughty. Or. Nice?"

**Author's Note:**

> I really hope this was good enough. It's a pairing I'll read but I've never written before. I actually enjoyed it. And might write more if prompted...
> 
> *hides for now*  
> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
>  **Update: *comes out of hiding* I will be writing more of this verse. I just need to know what you want Sherlock's answer to be to Mycroft's last line as the prompt for the next chapter. Naughty or Nice? Majority or best Sherlockian reply after new year will be used.**


End file.
